The World Over
by Penelope S Cartwright
Summary: Complete. Our favorite Special Agent is on another case, the likes of which no one has seen before. Only with the help of another serial murderer will she catch her killer. Rated for very gory scenes and language.
1. The Beginning

Disclaimer: I do not own none of the characters mentioned and am deathly afraid of lawyers. I'm only a college student trying to get some inspiration of my own.

Author's Note: This story takes place after Chesapeake from the alternate ending of the movie so no hands have been cut off. I'm a huge fan of the books so I'll be using a lot of canon also. I hope, readers, that you guys won't become too confused about this.

A woman awakes suddenly in the middle of the night. Her blond hair straight on her back as she clutches to her sheets. Sweat is visible on her brow. She slowly moves her left hand under her pillow and feels the reassuring weight of her .45 colt. She looks around the room and realizes her fears are unfounded.

"Just a dream," she mutters to herself.

In the moonlight, one can see the gun powder mark on her cheek in the shape of the French sign courage. She thinks about lying back down yet she cannot shake the feeling of being watched.

'Your just getting paranoid, now, Starling,' she thinks to herself and lies back down anyway. She doesn't fall asleep though.

And neither do the maroon eyes watching her from outside...

Early the next morning, FBI Special Agent Clarice Starling is found running one of the many trails in the woods by her home. These trails are a regular haunt for her. She could run each of them blindfolded with her hands tied behind her back. Though she clearly knows that would be horribly unpleasant. Her Mustang is situated at the entrance of the forest atop a small hill. She could only see it when running on the bridge nearby. She never saw the old Ford pickup parked a half mile down the road nor does she notice the shadow that follows her movements precisely. How can she notice these things when her mind is clearly in the past?

"...you only need a mirror for that, Clarice..."

"How does one begin to covet?"

"...your father, The Dead Night-watchman, and your mother, the Chambermaid,..."

"You will tell me when the lambs stop screaming, won't you, Clarice?"

She stops abruptly and shakes her head. She will never be rid of that metallic rasp of a voice in her head. She should have listened to Jack Crawford about not letting Lecter into her head. Now he was a permanent fixture. She walks quietly back to her car still contemplating the good doctor. In her minds eye she could still see him: standing as lithe as a dancer in his cell in the dungeon, white uniform almost blending with his skin, standing now in his cell in Memphis after his finger had subtly brushed hers as he gave her back her case file, and finally standing in the house he rented, fulling clothed in the best dress attire money could buy with that asshole Krendler dead next to him, the top of Krendler's skull placed neatly on the table. She sighs and tries again not to think about Hannibal Lecter. It had been an awful year since that tragic night. She faced an inquiry at work and was found to have acted "sensible" during her ordeal. She was also cleared of the charge of with holding evidence and reinstated back into the force with no prejudice. That was clearly bull shit. Every now and then she caught different people staring at her and going through her private work space. No one seemed to trust her. She hated Krendler for his interference.

The _National Tattler_ had gone on a rampage when they found out that she had been taken care of by Hannibal Lecter. "Bride of Dracula returns from honeymoon" one article was titled. She couldn't stand to even look at the rest of the paper. Every copy that was thrown her way, was systematically ripped into pieces and shoved into the trash can. Her best mate, Ardelia Mapp, came to her defense often but was gone most of the time working on her other cases.

Clarice takes out her keys and opens the door to her Mustang. She starts for a moment when she saw a wine bottle sitting on her front seat, a note attached to it. Her hand shakes as she unties the silk ribbon holding the card to the bottle.

_Clarice,_

_I believe I owe you this as a be-lated birthday present as the other one I had given you was lost. Also, I have not contacted you for a long period of time. I am still alive and as free as I'll ever be, Clarice. Why would you not sacrifice my life for the good of society? Is it the imbedded belief that to destroy life would mean eternal damnation for you? You had many chances, Special Agent Starling. It is beyond my comprehension that you would kill three other men, one of whom had a badge which if I recall correctly, you shot right through. Was it self-defense? One can only wonder. You still have not told me if the lambs had stopped screaming. You did promise you'd tell me. Do you really know how peaceful and beautiful you look when you run? We will have to talk about that sometime._

_Ta Ta,_

_Hannibal Lecter, M.D. _

She quickly looks all around to see if she could make out his form in the brush. Nothing is there now. She looks at the bottle of wine and sees it is the same Chateau d'Yquem from her birth year. She knows that if she were to bring it into the bureau, they would dust it for prints, find them, and then store the bottle in some basement until someone steals it. She was assigned to a different case now and felt obligated to turn in the bottle with the note.

As she drove home, she fought with herself. The bottle and note were evidence that the infamous Hannibal "the Cannibal" Lecter was in the country. No one knew where he was before. It had been a year since someone had seen hide or hair of him. Many people believed he had died. Then again this was a gift from him and in her twisted logic thought it would be rude not to accept it. Dr. Lecter did despise rude people, she thought. When she arrived home, she put the note in her desk by her bed and put the bottle of wine in her pantry. To hell with the FBI. If they didn't want her help with the Lecter case, then she would offer them none.

She pulls out the case file she is now working on. Another serial killer, she sighs, but this one is one she's never seen before...


	2. Reunion

Author's Note: I just want to thank anyone who's reading this story if anyone is reading it at all. I hope it's not too confusing. I promise you that the pace will pick up. Please R & R.

**Chapter 1 Reunion**

She reads through the case file carefully, every now and then flipping back to reread some small detail. Nine people were dead, killed by the same person or group of persons. Each body was found with a white ribbon tied to the left wrist. Each person was killed by a long sharp object thrust straight through the heart. The victims were around twenty to twenty five years old, all with drug or alcohol problems. The family members and friends who were interviewed all said that the victims were "wild and loose people with no good morals." Some were college students while the others were drop-outs. That was where the similarities ended. After each of the victims was killed, the corner wrote that the bodies were mutilated or positioned in different ways. One victim was found hung by his feet with his arms tied around his waist. Another was a woman who was found in her tub with her wrists and throat cut postmortem. At that crime scene all the mirrors in the house had been smashed and the forensic team found pieces of glass imbedded into her skin.

'Reminds me of Francis Dolarhyde,' thought Clarice.

The murderer did not care about gender, physical appearance, or race. That was odd since serial killers generally killed within their own ethnic group. No trace evidence had been found on any of the bodies. No witnesses came forward either. The FBI had nothing. All nine murders had occurred within a six month time period with no set pattern.

'Seems so random.'

She knew there was something there though. There had to be.

It was around three a.m. when Clarice awoke and bolted upright again. There was someone in the room. She slowly moved her head to the side, her vision still blurred from sleep. She blinked and saw the outline of someone sitting at her desk. She slid her hand under her pillow but her .45 was gone. A quite sinister chuckle sounded from the figure.

"Are you looking for something, Special Agent Starling?"

The rasp of that metallic sounding voice made her shutter. Two red pin pricks were gazing in her direction and she assumed that they were light from his eyes. She swallowed down her fear and found her voice.

"You know, Dr. Lecter, that it is extremely rude to enter a home without being invited in?"

Silence filled the room. The tension was thick in the air. Clarice could just imagine the smirk on his face when he answered.

"I'm terribly sorry about that, Clarice, but you see, I couldn't knock and expect you to answer the front door for me, could I? If its your honor your worried about, don't worry. No one saw me come in."

She felt her face become flushed but bit down any retort. She heard the chair he was sitting on squeak slightly as he rose from it. She watched his outline walk to the foot of her bed and then light a match. He lit a candle and then set it on her armoire.

"We don't want the neighbors to think that something's wrong, do we?"

She nodded reflexively. Dr. Hannibal Lecter stood clothed in a well cut dark gray suit with black silk shirt and tie. His dark hair was slicked back and now Clarice noticed for the first time the gray hair coming from his temples. She saw that his black fedora was placed on her desk. She felt very subconscious in her appearance. She was wearing only an old FBI t-shirt with sweats and her hair was messy.

"What, pray tell, Dr. Lecter, is the meaning of this visit?"

"I just wanted to visit and to see if you've had any luck on the new case your working on."

"And just what case am I working on, Doctor?" she asked calmly, all her fear leaving her now.

"This one," he said while walking over to the desk and picking up the case file. In the candle light she could see the scar on his left hand from his removal of his perfectly replicated middle digit.

"Do you have any idea why this man you seek ties a white ribbon around their wrist?" he asked. He stared unblinkingly at her. Her gaze faltered and she looked around the room to concentrate on something else.

"No I don't. I've been thinking about that for weeks." She looked at him to see if he would supply an answer. He nodded and said nothing else.

"Why does he do it, Dr. Lecter? How do you even know it's a he?" she asked.

He began pacing the room. Clarice thought he looked like a panther pacing its cage in her small room. Neither spoke for a full five minutes. Clarice had sat patiently against her headboard but as the silence became deafening she began to get frustrated and then angry.

"Shit, Dr. Lecter! Aren't you going to tell me anything! That is obviously why you showed up here tonight, isn't it?" As she yelled her Virginian accent thickened into a drawl. She heard him whisper something.

"What was that Dr. Lecter? I didn't quite catch that." she said while mustering all the patience she had left.

"Quid pro quo."

Hey guys! Well another chapter finished. I should have Chapter three done this weekend, too. Please read and review and honestly tell me how you guys think of it. I'll accept criticism as long as it is in good taste. Thanks.


	3. The Case File

**Author's Note:** Okay, first of all I'd like to thank Starling-Scully for the review! My first review ever! I'm stoked! Go check out her stories because they are really good (I loved Can I Keep her? by the way!). So that is why I decided to get this done now instead of waiting till tomorrow. Enjoy!

Chapter Two: The Case File

"Quid pro quo..." she said through her teeth.

She didn't know what to do or how to answer. She couldn't tell whether he was mocking her or playing games with her. Doctor Lecter's face was devoid of any emotion. He just stared out of her window into the night. It was almost four in the morning now. She took in a deep breath to steady herself.

"Dr. Lecter, I don't feel like playing games right now. Give me a straight answer; are you or are you not going to discuss this case with me? I know you've already gone over it in that _brilliant _mind of yours."

Clarice looked braver than she felt. Without her gun, her strength could not match his. Her cell phone was on her side dresser but she was sure he would take it before she even got within a foot of it. Her door was opened to reveal the hall with the staircase at the end. She wondered if she could run past him and try to get out of the house. Her rational mind quickly dismissed this idea. He would catch her. There was no doubt of it. He turned his face slowly to her.

"Quid pro quo, Clarice," he said, "like old times down in the dungeon. I know you have a lot to talk about. Do the lambs scream louder when you've down something wrong? Did they come back in full force when you saw John Brigham's body lying on that foul market's floor? Or what did they do when you put that bullet straight through that officer's heart? You know, the officer in Mason's barn..."

She sighed in defeat. She didn't have a clue how to catch the killer. She needed his help even though she would abhor herself to admit it.

"Go."

He smiled. His eyes glittering in the candle light. He walked over to her chair again and moved it closer to the bed. He settled himself comfortably in it and sat with his fingers together. She felt Doctor Lecter was at his best as a psychiatrist.

"Answer my first question, Clarice," he said softly, "and remember, don't lie or I'll know."

She took a moment to reflect on what he said and then thought of the answer.

"The lambs don't scream louder. They just visit me more frequently. I don't think I'll ever get rid of them."

"And why is that?"

"I don't know. It's your turn, Doctor. Why does the killer tie the ribbons around the victims' wrist?"

"Do you know what white symbolizes, Special Agent Starling? It embodies purity and religion. From what I've read, all the victims were thought to have none. As you think of these crimes as acts of heinous violence, our man thinks of them as acts to further his crusade."

She sat in numb silence. It was a possibility and a damn good theory. Another thought occurred to her also.

"Is that why he pierces them through the heart? To eradicate their own center of warped spirituality or lack thereof?"

"Hmm... You've seem to have forgotten the rules, Clarice. How did you feel when you killed that police officer?"

"Nothing. I felt nothing. I shot him because he wasn't a real cop. He was just a bastard hiding behind a piece of metal."

Doctor Lecter nodded and moved his gaze away from her face. She could tell his expression changed ever so slightly but she couldn't tell what that meant. She stretched her back and curled her legs under. She was becoming stiff from sitting against her wooden headboard.

"Where do you think our killer scouts out the victims?"

"Think of where the world's youth can enjoy themselves without worry and that will lead you down the right path."

He smirked at her. He _loved_ not answering her directly. He could see how it aggravated her. She sat in silence, unconsciously rubbing the outline of her gun powder mark.

"Clubs," she said at last. "He's frequenting the local clubs or bars or any place of that nature. It would be perfect to find those kinds of people. He probably picks them out from all the rest of the kids who are there just to have fun."

She ran a hand through her hair. Her eyes wide and her breathing coming in faster.

"The killer would have to be relatively young or look young to fit in and not be noticed. Probably a man between his late twenties to early thirties."

Suddenly her face fell and she became pensive once more. Something still did not make sense. She looked at Doctor Lecter and knew immediately that he was thinking the same thing. Before she could ask him the question, he interrupted her.

"What did you feel when I kissed you?"

Clarice was taken aback when she heard this. She could feel her face become flushed and avoided his gaze. 'Of all the nerve,' she thought. 'He has to ask me that question.' She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Out of the corner of her, she saw him watching her closely.

"I...I felt angry for a moment...frustrated since I couldn't move to stop you..."

"What else?"

"I felt gratified to know that a man could take an interest in me. I'm not exactly glad to think that a psychopath finds me attractive. Most of the men, well the assholes anyway, refer to me as the ice bitch."

She looked back into his face and saw his eyes moving over her form slowly. She felt naked under his scrutiny. He looked into her eyes again. She saw something stir behind them, some hidden emotion that he wanted her to glimpse.

"They refer to you as the 'ice bitch' only because you won't return their attentions. Rightly so, in my opinion. You deserve someone who will listen to you, not stare at you. Remember, no award nor item of jewelry will show you what you truly are. You need only look into the mirror."

"Thank you, doctor," she said quietly.

Her face looked gaunt in the candle light. Clarice hadn't been sleeping well and it was taking its toll on her body. She suppressed a yawn but Doctor Lecter noticed it.

"When was the last time you slept for a full seven hours, Clarice?" asked Doctor Lecter.

"About three weeks ago. I've been too stressed out about this case and I...I keep dreaming about the lambs."

Something about her pause led him to believe she wasn't telling him the whole truth. Her eyes had flickered ever so slightly from his gaze and back again.

"Would you mind terribly if I reviewed the case file while you slept? I give you my word that I won't kidnap you again. I'll be right here when you awake."

Something about his demeanor made her calm. She nodded and yawned. She didn't feel bothered that he would be in the same room. She felt oddly comfortable and _safe_. 'Safe? With a serial killer? Starling you are going 'round the bend.' She laid down and covered herself with the comforter. Before she closed her eyes, she saw him move back over to the desk and open the file.

"Good night, Clarice."

"Good night, Doctor."


	4. The Crusader

**Author's Note:** Sorry in advance as this chapter will be very, very short. And to avoid any confusion this chapter focuses on the killer. Adieu!

Chapter Three: The Crusader

A man stands by the bar in the very loud night club by himself. He is about six foot one and very thin. He has a wiry strength about him though. His white blond hair makes him stand out in the crowd and his handsome features turn more than a few heads. He feigns interest in a couple of the dancers but moves away from them afterwards. Their not his _type_.

At age twenty-nine, Michael Talivaldis, looked about twenty-one or two. He only wears a black shirt and slacks with black boots. His emerald green eyes move to a woman who looks like she is about to pass out on her table. There are several lines of a fine white powder from which her male companions are sniffing greedily at next to her. He moves to a small niche and waits till she makes her way to the door. He has been watching this woman for about two weeks now. He knows she will go out into the parking lot and sleep in her car until the effects of the drug wear off. She wears the kind of trashy glow-in-the-dark jewelry that one can find at any cheap department store and her clothes are reminiscent of a prostitute.

He follows her out and makes sure no one sees him.

She doesn't make it to her car this time...


	5. Compromise

**Author's Note: I just want to thank everyone who's reading this story. I have most of it written out but I just have to find the time to type and upload it. I'm actually graduating from high school tomorrow so I'm going to be very busy! Thanks especially to ar-men66 for the review. I really appreciate them guys! **

Chapter Four: Compromise

Clarice Starling woke up late in the morning. Judging by the light coming from the shutters, she thought it could be ten o'clock. She could smell bacon and eggs coming from the kitchen. Doctor Lecter's fedora was still on her desk. She felt relaxed and well rested from sleep. She saw her .45 colt on the desk, too. Her cell phone was right next to it. For a minute she stood there wondering what to do. Doctor Lecter was not in sight. She could call the police and if she had time, notify the FBI. She thought of the pay raise and fame she would get. She thought of how the men of her department might start to respect her. Then she thought of Doctor Lecter.

"If given the chance would you deny me my life?"

"No."

"My freedom then..."

She shook her head. That night would never leave her. She made up her mind. _Fuck the FBI. What did they ever do for me?_ She made her bed and then pulled out a pair of jeans and a black shirt. She got clean underclothes also and made her way to her bathroom. She took a quick shower, brushed her teeth and hair, and got dressed. She put on a pair of black boots she had lying in her closet and walked downstairs. She could hear the bacon sizzling on the pan.

When she walked into the kitchen she saw that the table had been set for two. A bouquet of flowers in a vase was placed in the middle of it. She saw that someone had made eggs, bacon, and toast. The coffee pot was full. A small can of creamer stood next to it.

"Good morning."

Clarice nearly jumped out of her skin. She didn't hear Doctor Lecter walk up behind her. He was so close she could feel his breath on her neck. She turned to face him and nearly lost her balance had it not been for his arms catching her around the waist. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest from the fright he gave her and the closeness of his body. She held onto his arms as she stood up straight against him. She tried to pull away slowly but he wouldn't let her go.

"Does this give you the feeling of deja vu, Clarice?" he whispered.

"Yes. Now will you unhand me, Doctor?"

"Certainly."

He stepped back and gave her space. She looked at him with narrow eyes and began to think that leaving her gun on her desk was a bad idea. She decided she would never call the police though.

"Come and sit down, Clarice. I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of cooking and going through your kitchen. You should look into getting a wider selection of foods if I might add."

Doctor Lecter pulled out a chair for her and when she was seated, pushed it in. He served her a good helping of everything with a cup of coffee. He settled himself at the other end and waited for her to start. The food was delicious. Clarice thought about that the last time she ate this good and found out that she couldn't remember.

"Thank you, Doctor Lecter."

"Hannibal."

"Sorry?"

"Hannibal, Clarice. I think we can dispense with all the formalities don't you? We've know each other almost ten years now." he said.

"If you insist," she answered. She sat quietly for a moment before she went on. "I believe it is my turn, Doc- I mean, Hannibal."

Doctor Lecter looked up from his meal with a ghost of a smile on his face. He nodded to her and took a sip of his coffee. In his mind, he applauded himself for finishing one of his many tasks...

"Why does the killer pose his victims after their dead?"

Doctor Lecter dabbed his mouth with a paper napkin. He set it down on the table and stared at Clarice, thinking of what he should tell her.

"The killer feels he needs to please his mentors or should I say the _heros _that came before him. Have you heard the expression, 'imitation is the best form of flattery?' That's what he's doing Clarice. That's exactly what he's doing."

She felt a chill go up her back. This killer was even more deranged and dangerous than she expected. The killer knows how to destroy evidence and not be seen or noticed. And another thought came to her.

"He knows what he's doing is wrong," she said. "He can't help it now though. His first victim was probably an accident. The second a kind of 'test drive.' Now he's got a real taste for it."

Doctor Lecter smiled widely. 'She might be able to catch him yet,' he thought. He needed to distract her from this case for a moment though.

"So, _Special Agent Starling_, have you thought about what you are going to do with me? Are you going to call the police when you have no further use of me? Will you call your superiors and tell them you've caught the infamous Doctor Lecter and he's here at your house? I wonder what the National Tattler would think of that... Probably think of some story full of sexual innuendos and nights of torture..."

She looked at him seriously.

"Well I have thought about it and have decided not to turn you in at all. The FBI need never know that you helped me at all on this case. They don't even know you are in the country. I need help though, Doctor, and in turn for that, I will extend you the courtesy of leaving you be."

He nodded.

"There is one small problem though..." he said.

"What?" asked Clarice.

"There are two agents that have been following you and keeping tabs on you ever since I arrived here. I noticed them the first night I cam here. They haven't seen me though."

"Shit." Clarice looked out her window nonchalantly and tried to see if she could catch the glare of a scope or binocular. When she turned back to the table, Doctor Lecter was still smiling.

"He's hiding in the brush about a quarter mile from here. Look out the window around two o'clock this afternoon and you will see the glare from a scope he has. Have you thought of the new problem they have created for us?"

Starling shook her head, not really knowing what he was talking about.

"I won't be able to leave the house until the change of the next shift. You will have to be careful of what you say on the phone because they have it tapped. Your mail has been searched through also."

Clarice was fuming. This was outrageous. The FBI didn't trust her at all and this was a major invasion of privacy! She hung her head in her hands and after a moment stood up.

"Your welcome to stay here as long as you like, Doctor. I need to work on a couple of things at the office and go for a run. I'll likely be back around six o'clock tonight."

She ran up to her room and got ready for work. There were somethings she needed to find out. She also needed to cool down. When she returned downstairs, Doctor Lecter was waiting by the front door with her car keys.

"Have a good day, Special Agent Starling," he said with a slight sneer.

"Good bye." She took the keys from him and walked outside.


	6. Revelations

**Author's Note: So sorry for the delay, I actually misplaced the disk I have this story on! I found it so all is not lost. I want to thank Lecter-in-love for the nice review. I'm glad some people are reading it. Oh and also all those from the Studiolo who are reading this, Thank you! This chapter for your and particularly my convenience has been split up into three parts. Enjoy! **

**Chapter Five: Revelations**

_Part I_

Clarice walked out of her house pissed off at the world and not knowing what she was going to do next on the case. When driving to the bureau, she noticed for the first time a black sedan four or five cars back following her. She parked in the parking structure across the street and walked into the building. Her office was still in the basement. It was no longer referred to as Hannibal's House as she was taken off the Doctor's case. She was all by herself. No one wanted to work down there. Clarice sat at her computer, looking at all the clubs around where the victims lived. She made phone calls to all the friends and families again asking what clubs the victims frequented. The name that was on all the list was the Vibe.

The Vibe was located in the shady area of town. She phoned the club and was told the times that it was open. She asked to speak with the owner but was told he was out of the country on vacation. 'Typical,' she thought. She wrote out a new report detailing all the new leads Dr. Lecter had given her. She made sure she didn't slip up and mention his name. That would make things very complicated. At half-past nine she drove home in her Mustang.

She loved her car. It gave her a release from the world when nothing else would. She listened to the engine roar as it hit 5800 rpms. She let the clutch out slowly, listening to the gears grind. On the road she decided to scout the club. Who knows, she might get lucky like the time she found Jame Gumb otherwise known as Buffalo Bill.

The house was dark when she drove up. She walked into her home wondering whether Dr. Lecter was still there when she saw her table was lit with two candles. The bright flowers of the morning were gone and in there stead was two dark red roses laying on the table. Two bowls of hot soup were also there. Clarice saw movement out of the corner of her left eye. Dr. Lecter pulled out her chair for her and motioned for her to sit.

"I hope you like it," he said while pushing her in.

She nodded. It smelt so good. There was stewed carrots, cabbage, and potatoes with small pieces of beef in it. It was a very light meal which she needed.

Dr. Lecter did not speak for the whole meal. He sat patiently waiting for Clarice to start the conversation. He could practically taste the tension emanating from her. She was sitting as taunt as a copper wire in her chair. He stood up after finishing and walked behind her.

"What are you doing, Hannibal?"

She gave him an accusatory glance. Her shoulders set more rigidly.

"Shh...you need to relax," he said softly.

He placed his hands on her shoulders and felt her tense even more. He began rubbing hard circles with his thumbs into her neck. She gasped at the feeling but slowly let herself relax. Dr. Lecter pushed her soup bowl out of her way so she could lay her head down on her arms. He gently moved his hands lower, massaging her back.

Clarice was in heaven. His ministrations felt so good. She moaned into her arms and felt the doctor's hands abruptly leave her.

"Please continue, Hannibal," she said, not moving from her current position. He put his hands on her upper back and made his way down. She felt him move her hair to the side, away from her neck. She then felt the softest of kisses placed there. She froze again, not knowing what on earth she was going to do. He kissed her neck again a little below her earlobe this time. His hands had stopped moving and now rested on her shoulders.

"Dr. Lecter-"

"What are you feeling, Clarice?" he whispered, his lips grazing her ear.

" I don't know," she said. Her heart beat quickly and she couldn't think about anything. She only knew she had to be alone. She stood up suddenly and tried to sidestep him. Dr. Lecter grabbed her wrists and held them to her side.

"Why all the running?" he growled.

She stared straight into his maroon eyes. The smell of very good and expensive aftershave wafted into her nose. He stared directly into her eyes, searching them. She closed them as an attempt to shut him out; to stop him from looking into her very soul. She felt him step closer, their bodies barely an inch apart.

"Why, Clarice?" he breathed.

She trembled against him. Dr. Lecter let go of her wrists but gently ran his hands up her arms. She let out a shaky breath.

"I'm scared...of you...of failure..."

She opened her eyes to see him with a very serious look on his face. He leaned in and place his lips chastely on hers. She moved her hands to his chest and tried to push away.

"I can't do this," she said against his lips. Dr. Lecter held her closer, his hands traveling from her waist to her back.

"Why not?" he said, kissing the corner of her mouth.

Clarice finally stepped away from him and couldn't meet is eyes when she answered.

"I'm a Special Agent of the F.B.I. whose sworn duty is to protect the nation and its people. Your one of the ten most wanted criminals who I'm supposed to hand in!"

"The F-B-I, the abusive master whom you serve with unswerving loyalty, who betrayed you when you brought shame to it. They don't give a damn about you, Clarice! Why do you care about them? They hate everything you stand for. They despise you for your honesty and incorruptibility. You despise them as much yet you go back to them...Your father is dead, he would be proud of you regardless of where you worked!"

"This isn't about the F.B.I. or my father!"

"Then what is it about?"

Clarice stood there, her eyes still trained to the floor. What was it really about? She didn't know. She can't deal with this right now. She turned away from his smoldering gaze and walked upstairs to her room. She still had to go to the club and that's all her mind focused on.

_Part II_

Knowing the type of club the Vibe was going to be, she put on her skimpiest outfit (which by society's standards wasn't very skimpy). She wore a whit halter top shirt with a black skirt that fell just above her knee. She spent about ten minutes looking for appropriate shoes but ended up settling for the Gucci pumps Dr. Lecter had boughten her a year ago. She put her wallet, gun, and badge into a small leather purse. Grabbing her keys, she walked back downstairs and straight to the front door. She didn't see Hannibal anywhere. 'Dr. Lecter,' she chided herself mentally. She drove straight to the club. She parked a block down from it and walked until she saw a long line of people waiting at the door. She was about to get in line when the bouncer waved her over to the front. He was a very muscular man, a bodybuilder by the look of him.

"Hey babe, you all by your lonesome self?" he asked in an extremely deep voice.

"Yes, sir. If you let me in I'll promise to save you a dance when you get off your shift," she said coyly, her West Virginian accent becoming thicker. The bouncer nodded and let her in. The music was deafening. Her ear drums pulsed along with the beat. The Vibe was so dark that she could barely make out the faces on the dance floor. A thick layer of smoke hung over them, too. Hundreds of people packed the club. The only lighted area was the bar which she walked to immediately. She mimed to the bartender to get her a water but he brought her a beer instead. 'Hell with it,' she thought as she paid for it and took a long pull. She watched as people came, ordered drinks, and left again. Only one man stayed by the bar the whole time she was there. He was dressed all in black with shockingly white blond hair. He, too, had a beer and turned to see who was looking at him. Clarice made eye contact with him briefly and turned toward the dance floor, a blush creeping up her cheeks. The man was incredibly handsome. 'Damn it, Starling! Concentrate on finding something suspicious, not on that guy.'

"May I join you?" The man had walked right up to her chair.

"Of course," she said loudly, making sure she could be heard over the music. He sat down in the chair next to hers and shook her out-stretched hand.

"What's a nice lookin' girl like you doing at a club like this?"

"Just getting away for a bit," she said not entirely lying.

"Some get away, huh?"

"You can say that."

Clarice scanned the club again and didn't see anything out of the ordinary. She checked her watch and saw that it was already going to be one in the morning.

"I have to go. It was nice talking to you."

She was trying to shake him off. Something felt...creepy about him.

"It was nice talking to you, Ms.-?"

"Starling."

"Charmed. Michael Talivaldis."

"Thank you, Michael. Good-bye."

Clarice walked back to her Mustang feeling like she had missed something.

_Part III_

Starling opened her front door with trepidation. She didn't know what to expect from Han- Dr. Lecter. The house was dark and cold. She turned on a couple of lights but saw no sign of the doctor. Did she really expect him to be here when she returned? Yes she did. She didn't want to hide behind the F.B.I. or her father anymore. She walked through the rest of the house but found nothing. She went to her bedroom and found a note on her bed. She stared at the piece of paper, a hard lump forming in her throat. She swallowed hard, picked it up, and read.

_My dear Clarice, _

_I am sorry to leave you with no chance of saying good-bye. It is better this way, you know. I feel that I have overstayed my welcome at your home, and I beg your forgiveness. I do not regret, however, any of my words or actions nor will I ever. I'll be gone out of your life finally, Special Agent Starling. It has been fun._

_Regards, _

_Hannibal Lecter, M.D._

Clarice folded the note again and stuck it in one of her drawers. The rest of the night she sat on her bed, tears running down her face, looking out towards the moon.


	7. Musings

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, especially armen66 (I'm so glad that you're a member of the Studiolo!) and Lecter-in-love. The Good Doctor will be absent for this chapter (we do hear from him though), but he'll come back in the next one. Not to worry! Enjoy! **

**Chapter Six: Musings **

Michael walked out of the club very disappointed. He didn't see anyone that was his _type_. It had been a couple of days now since his last act of redemption. When he was walking home he thought of that blond woman. Starling was her name. It sounded very familiar to him. He could've swore he'd heard it before. He shook her from his thoughts. He needed to find someone to redeem and fast. God wouldn't like it if he slowed down or stopped.

Clarice woke up to the sound of her cell phone. She had fallen asleep, propped up against her headboard. Her spine popped a couple of times as she reached for it.

"Starling."

"Starling, this is Pearsall, get down here immediately. A kid found a woman posed and wearing a white ribbon on her wrist. We're at the victim's home, 5914 Delaware Street. Get down here fast."

He hung up on her. She washed up quickly and threw on a pair of jeans and a shirt. Her gun and badge gleamed as she put on her belt. She was at the crime scene a half hour later. The house was blocked off by yellow police tape. Pearsall met her at the door.

"We're in luck, Starling. One of the guys here managed to find a couple of hair samples off of the victim's clothing. I sent them to the lab already. I wanted you to see this though..."

Clarice walked into the house. It smelled as though the victim had been there for a couple of days. The furniture was all upturned with shattered glass everywhere. Blood was splattered and smeared on the walls. The corpse itself was on the left wall of the room. It was hanging there due to the arrows piercing its nude body. An arrow was also sticking out of its chest. There was only a small pool of blood at its feet.

"What do you think, Starling?"

Clarice didn't have to think. She had seen this pose before but only in a photograph.

"He copied Dr. Lecter this time. This guy like to show that he can copy other killers. It might be a way to accost us or it just might be pride."

She stepped closer to the body. She examined the arrows and the dried blood. The white ribbon on the woman was still clean and unstained. 'The son of a bitch had waited until the body had cooled and the blood was dry to tie it on,' thought Clarice.

"We need to set up a twenty-four hour surveillance at the Vibe. That is where he is choosing and abducting his victims."

Pearsall agreed and sent several officers down there. Starling drove to the lab and only had to wait an hour for someone to fill her in. Dr. Andrews showed her in.

"Special Agent Starling, we were able to get a DNA sample but we didn't get a hit on the computer or through VICAP. If you catch this guy, we have enough evidence to hold up in court."

"Thank you, Dr. Andrews."

She didn't have anything really to work on except to type out another report on the victim. She drove home and decided to rest a couple hours. It was around four in the morning when she got a call from one of the surveillance officers.

"We've got him!"

She drove to the bureau, her spirits higher than they've been in months. She ran into the building where there were several reporters hanging around.

"Shit."

One of the younger and more watchful ones spotted her and pointed her out.

"Special Agent Starling!"

"Is it true that you've caught the serial killer known as The Crusader?"

"How did you do it?"

"What was your relationship with Hannibal Lecter?"

She glared at all of them and pushed her way through the throng. Pearsall was waiting for her in one of the interrogation rooms.

"We caught this guy trying to drag a young kid into the kid's own car. We're sure its him."

Clarice glanced into the two-way mirror. She gasped when she saw the man. It was the same man who came and sat down next to her at the club.

"What is it, Starling?"

"I-I saw him when I was there, at the club."

"Don't think on it, Starling. You didn't know," said Pearsall quietly.

She nodded. Sitting in the next room was Michael Talivaldis. He was sitting straight-backed against the chair, his hands folded in his lap.

"He let us swab his mouth, take a hair sample, and he also gave us a blood sample. We should have the results from one of them any minute."

Dr. Andrews came into the room. His face was long. Clarice felt her stomach drop.

"It's a no go, sir. The DNA doesn't match. Strangely though, the hair samples were a perfect match. I can't explain it. Anyway, we can't hold him."

"Damn it," swore Pearsall.

"Wait a moment, Doctor. How can the hair samples match and not the DNA?"

"I'm not really sure. I've never seen a thing like this happen before. It's strange."

Clarice stared out one of the windows in the building and watched Michael walk to a waiting cab. She was sure this was not the last time she would see him.

"Sir, I need to ask you something," said Clarice back in Pearsall's office.

"What is it, Starling?"

" I want to ask a higher _specialist _how it was possible to have the hair samples match but not the DNA. I will have to use a coded message. I'm not even sure he'll reply."

"And who is this person?"

"Dr. Lecter."

Later that day, Clarice posted this message in the National Tattler, the China Post, and the Washington Post.

_666,_

_I need help. Hair is the same but different DNA. Please respond. I am ready to talk._

_Hannah_

Nothing significant happened for two weeks. Clarice found no other leads and the Crusader was oddly quiet. No reports of missing people were filed and no bodies were found. She a strange sense of foreboding. At the end of the second week, she found a reply to her message in all three newspapers.

_Dear Hannah,_

_So nice to hear from you. Greek mythology. Look for the monster who was killed by Bellerophon. That is your reason why. Ready? We'll see. _

_Ta Ta,_

_666_

Greek mythology? She went straight to her computer and began searching for Bellerophon. She skimmed through several sites before she found what she was looking for.

_Chimera:_ a fierce mythological creature with the head of a loin, body of a goat, and tail of a snake. Each part of this creature has it own unique identity.

The phrase "own unique identity" sparked something in Starling. She called Dr. Andrews at once.

"Hello Dr. Andrews speaking."

"Dr. Andrews, this is Special Agent Starling. Is there any kind of disorder or disease that when a person has it, they are referred to as a Chimera?"

"Hmm...that sounds vaguely familiar. Let me check it out and I'll get right back to you."

"Right."

She hung up, feeling that she was on the right path again. Fifty minutes later, Dr. Andrews phoned her back.

"There is a disorder which the patients are called Chimeras. It's extremely rare. People who are chimeras have more than one genetic code. We took the liberty of running another series of tests on that blood sample and the second one came up."

"We had the right guy."


	8. London

**Author's Note: First off, I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed especially MandaPanda2**. **That was a lovely review. I really appreciate it. Most people when they talk to me think I'm in my late twenties. I even got invited to happy hour one time too! The Good Doctor is back in this chapter! **

**Chapter Seven: London**

Clarice and several other agents went to the apartment of Michael Talivaldis, the Crusader. In her back pocket, Clarice had the arrest warrant. After knocking a couple of times on the door, they broke it down and stormed in. No one was there. Everyone after securing the apartment off looked around it in stupefaction. The apartment was set up as a church. There was even an altar taking up a whole wall. A giant crucifix hung right above it. Candles lined the floor and shelves. The apartment smelled strongly of incense. In the only bedroom, they found arrows, rope, and pipes sharpened at the end hidden under the bed. In one of the drawers they found rolls of white ribbon. The room was filled with pictures of Christ and the Blessed Mother.

"This guy is one hell of a nut job," one of the agents muttered.

They sealed the apartment off. Clarice had a very grave feeling that the Crusader had taken off. Where? She couldn't answer. Back at the bureau she sent a fax containing his picture to all the airports and border patrols. British Airways contacted her three days later and said a man resembling the picture took a flight to Heathrow Airport about a week ago. The media found out about it and started airing the story nonstop. There were several camera crews waiting outside the building already. Starling contacted the British authorities and Scotland Yard, putting them on high alert. Pearsall sent her a memo telling her to get to London fast. A plane ticket was already inside.

Starling was in London about seven hours later. The F.B.I. had booked a hotel room for her at the Novotel in Hammersmith. The Hammersmith tube station was not even a block from it. The British authorities briefed her on their recent activities in regard to catching the Crusader. They only really knew one thing, he was still in London.

After an exhausting day following leads to nowhere, Clarice walked back to the hotel. She was walking down the hall to her room thinking about staying in and eating at the hotel restaurant when she saw an envelope taped to her door. She recognized the handwriting her name was in immediately. In her room, she opened it and found only a restaurant business card.

_Bistro Benito's_

_Located on the corner of Earl's Court and Cromwell Road. _

_The Best Italian Food you'll ever taste! _

_Directions: Get off at the Earl's Court tube station and walk towards Cromwell Road. You can't miss us! _

She freshened up and walked out her room again.

Earl's Court station was a very small one. Clarice walked up the stairs and out onto the street. She turned left and started her way down Earl's Court. The night air chilled her face. The area looked a bit dodgy but there were still plenty of people around this time of night. It was only a five minute walk to Benito's. It was a small restaurant but the seating was arranged in such a way to make it spacious. A short older man came to greet her when she stepped inside.

"Hello, Miss, your name?"

"She's with me," said a metallic voice behind her.

She turned and saw Dr. Lecter standing in a navy blue suit and tie. He touched her elbow lightly to move her towards the back of the restaurant which happened to be behind the kitchens.

"Dr. Charles, its so nice to see you here again. It's been what? Fifteen years since your last visit, no?"

"Yes, almost fifteen years. I must apologize for the absence. I can honestly say it was beyond my control."

Dr. Lecter smiled at the man, his small white teeth gleaming in the dim light. He waited till Clarice sat down and took a seat himself. Neither talked until the waiter came. He was a young man, probably in his late twenties. Clarice saw that his name was Martin from his name tag.

"What can I get for you two tonight?" he asked in a strong Italian accent.

"Chicken Marsala, for me, please," answered Clarice.

"Hmm..I'll have the_ penne con gamberi e carciofi_ with a glass of _Barolo Riserva_."

"Very good, sir. I'll be back in a moment with your order."

The waiter left them. Clarice noticed they were alone in the room. All the other tables were set but were presently empty. She turned her gaze back to Dr. Lecter and saw him watching her.

"So your Crusader left the land of the free and is now on his mission here. How do you feel about that, Clarice?"

She took a moment to answer him.

"Frustrated. Churlish that due to a genetic disorder we could have had him in prison by now."

Dr. Lecter could see the fire in her eyes. He could see the determination to catch the Crusader set in every line in her young face. The dim light cast the right shadows on her face. That was why he sat in the back instead of the well-lit front.

"How do you plan on tracking him down? He could be anywhere in this immense city..."

Dr. Lecter let that sentence hang subtlety in the air.

Starling knew that look that he had. It was the look he had when she asked him who Buffalo Bill was. That look that he knew something very important but was not going to share it with her.

"You know where he is, don't you?" she asked though she already knew the answer.

"I might."

"Quid pro quo, Doctor."

Dr. Lecter looked surprised for a moment but masked it well. He tilted his head slightly to the left as if to get a better look at her. The tables had been turned.

"Go."

"Is he haunting the clubs here?" she asked.

"In his eyes, his crusade is far from done, Agent Starling."

She took that as a yes.

"Last time you couldn't answer me this question but since you've written that your ready to talk, I expect an answer this time. Why all the running?"

They were interrupted by the arrival of their food. Martin bowed after he had set everything down and walked into the kitchen. Dr. Lecter swirled the wine in the glass, inhaled its scent, and took a sip gingerly. He closed his eyes for a second, savoring the flavor.

"You've not answered, Clarice."

She took a deep breath, steadying herself before she responded.

"I don't want to have any..._attachments_. Its easier to deal with people that way. You were right when you said that I despise the F.B.I. I do. But it is the only stable and reliable thing in my life. I distance myself so I can be beyond fate's cruel grasp."

"My, Special Agent Starling, that was almost poetic."

She almost was in half a mind to walk out of the restaurant for that taunt, but she did not see him smirk or sneer at her. That made her stay in her seat. They ate in silence until both had finished their food. Clarice took out her purse to pay for her meal, but Dr. Lecter would not hear of it.

"Did you expect me to make you pay for the meal that I invited you to? I sincerely hope not."

The older man that had greeted them at the door bowed them out of the restaurant. It was almost eleven o'clock at night, and the air was substantially colder. The bustling crowds that had been roaming Earl's Court dwindled now to only a couple of people.

"Tell me where Talivaldis is, Hannibal."

"I'll take you there."

She thought about it for a second before she acquiesced. He offered her his arm which she took hesitantly. Both walked quietly back to the tube.

**Author's Note Again: The restaurant that I described is in fact a real restaurant on the corner of Earl's Court and Cromwell Road and Bistro Benito's is its real name. They have the best Italian food I have ever tasted! I was actually in London for a week in March (I was in England for a total of eleven days having spent the first four days in Stratford-upon-Avon). I stayed at the Novotel in Hammersmith and could picture the F.B.I. booking Starling a room there. If my British readers find any inconsistencies with my descriptions, please tell me so that I can correct them. I hope to return to your lovely country as soon as I can. I loved it there. **


	9. Appearances

**Author's Note: I'm am so terribly sorry for the wait! My best guy friend is graduating this weekend and I had other banquets to attend so I've been neglecting my duties as a writer and for that I am truly sorry...Well I assume you do not want to hear apologies and excuses so I'll get on with the story. Thank you again to everyone who is reading this! I really appreciate it! **

**Chapter Eight: Appearances **

To the untrained and unobservant eye, Dr. Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling looked like a couple enjoying a quiet stroll on a lovely clear night. In reality, it was a different story. Clarice's heart beat much faster than normal and her free hand was resting on the .45 clipped to her belt, hidden by her jacket. She couldn't think about anything except what she was going to do about Talivaldis. Her eyes took on a glazed quality and her legs felt like lead. Dr. Lecter walked with his hands in his coat pockets, his left hand every now and then fingering his beloved harpy. There was a nonchalant air about him. His eyes swept the street ahead of them. His heart rate was a steady 45 beats per minute. There was no need to be nervous. Clarice would only get a glimpse of her killer. She wouldn't catch him tonight. Dr. Lecter had other plans tonight. The Crusader would not be able to kill anyone for a couple of days, of this Dr. Lecter was sure. There was no one in their train cart. There was probably only ten people total in the train itself. If was the last train that night. The lights on it flickered every so often. Dr. Lecter admired the was they cast shadows on Clarice's face. _'She'll never realize how beautiful she really is,'_ he thought. Clarice didn't notice his staring. _'I might catch him. I will catch him tonight,'_ she chanted to herself. She streached her back, arms, legs, and fingers. Her fingers were very stiff from being curled around her gun, not to mention from the cold also. They got off at Leicester Square. With the time being past midnight, they only met a couple of people every few blocks. The might was unusually clear but cold.

"How much long-."

Clarice was pulled out of the street and into a very dark alcove.

"Don't speak for the next ten minutes."

They stood there watching the street. Clarice wrapped her jacket closer to her body. She felt much warmer a second later as Dr. Lecter wrapped his coat around her also. She turned slightly in surprise.

"Dr. Lecter, Hannibal, you'll freeze. I'll be fine."

"You need it more than I do. Just humor me."

She nodded and wrapped it around her closer. His cologne hung on the jacket. It was a mixture of sandalwood with something sweet like vanilla but not quite.

"Our man approaches..."

Clarice focused her eyes on the street. She heard the Crusader before she saw him. He was whistling_ Joyful, Joyful_. His emerald green eyes looked almost yellow and appeared to glow in the lamp light. He was wearing all black with a long trench coat and scarf. She could see the mist of his breath. He looked up suddenly, looking around at his surroundings. Clarice then had a thought pop into her heard; she felt her stomach drop horribly. _'He's seen me before! He might recognize me! And, shit, I told him my name so he probably knows I'm after him!'_

Talivaldis walked closer to where Dr. Lecter and Clarice were hidden. Clarice began to panic. If she was recognized, she would have to take him down herself. Then she would call in the authorities and try to convince them that she was all by herself. She could see that working out well. Talivaldis crept closer. His eyes scanned the area.

'Oh, shit, shit,...Think, Starling, THINK!'

"Who's there?" asked Michael. Dr. Lecter watched with amusement the predicament that Clarice was in. He could see all the thoughts running through her mind in her face. He felt her tension, anxiety, and panic, her indecision and desperation. She looked like a deer about to bolt. He decided to take matters into his own hands.

"Oh, Ardelia," he whispered loudly enough so Michael could hear.

He spun Clarice around and placed her in the corner of the alcove, his hands at her waist. He then pressed his lips to hers, making sure he moaned loud enough so Talivaldis to hear. Clarice was shocked and very disoriented. All thoughts vanished when he kissed her. His lips were warm and soft against hers. She finally gained back her rational thought and caught on to what he was doing.

Michael Talivaldis heard the couple before he saw them, trying to hide in that little niche._ 'How disgusting,'_ he thought, _'that this man and woman could be doing that in public.'_ He thought if the Lord would approve of these two. He saw the woman pull the man in closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. He couldn't see her face. He then realized he had stopped to watch this shameless act of iniquity.

"May God have pity on you both," he said and walked on.

Both Clarice and Dr. Lecter had heard what the Crusader said but did not end the kiss until a couple of minutes later. Dr. Lecter looked out onto the street to see Talivaldis now several blocks away. He was staying in a very cheap and gaudy hotel on Black Pond Road. Clarice still hadn't let go of him. He turned back to her and saw her with a perplexed look on her face. He tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"What are you thinking about, Clarice," he whispered.

"I'm thinking about how that was such a close call," she let out a shaky breath, "and what that kiss did to me." She raised her hand and caressed his cheek. He leaned into her touch, placing a kiss in her palm.

"What about the F.B.I. and your daddy? What would they think?"

"We don't have the time to talk about it right now," she said seriously. "We'll discuss this later if there even is a 'we.'"

"Agreed. Do you think dear ole' Jackie boy would have approved?"

She was going to retort angrily but she saw the amusement in his eyes. _'He's teasing me! Well, two can play at this game.'_

"Why did you choose my best friend's name, huh? Is there something I should know, Doctor?"

Dr. Lecter laughed at that.

"I assure you I have no designs that deal with Special Agent Mapp. She's not as interesting nor as beautiful as you."

Clarice blushed deeply, not used to such courteous complements. They flagged down a taxi and drove to the Novotel.

"The F.B.I. booked you a room here?

Clarice nodded. She could see the distaste in the doctor's face. Ever the gentleman, he walked her inside and up to her room. She knew he did this out of gallantry but also to know where she was staying. He took her hand at her door and kissed it.

"Goodnight, Clarice," he said and walked away.


	10. A Close Call

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone whose reviewed and is reading this story, especially Lady Katherine (I feel honored that you like my story!) and** **Allison Velikaya! Lady Katherine, do not worry. I plan to finish this story or die trying. I hate when author's write something good but never finish it, too. As to being inside Talivaldis's mind, you can say that I have a pretty dark and morbid mind and he just showed up in it one day. I apologize in advance as this chapter is really short. The next one will be much sooner and it will be longer! **

**Chapter Nine: A Close Call**

Michael decided to leave London the next morning. It was a pleasant city, but still too closely associated with the Americans. Not being an American citizen, he decided to move closer to his homeland. He also hated the hotel he was staying in. There was no privacy and he still had his vocation to fulfill. He tried to observe people to see which person the Lord wanted him to redeem. The couple he had seen earlier had potential but he thought it would have been too risky. They might have overpowered him. Michael stuffed his clothes into a black duffle bag. Then he picked up several old newspaper clippings he had photocopied at the Washington Library. The largest black and white photo showed a woman trying to block her face from the camera. The heading read "Bride of Dracula returns from Honeymoon." The article was about Starling. Special Agent Clarice M. Starling of the F.B.I. The woman he met at the club who was looking for him. He had laughed about that incident! God was truly on his side. He tucked the clippings into a side pocket and hoisted the bag onto his shoulder. He had already bought a plane ticket and had an expensive fake passport. He'd always heard Vienna was nice this time of year...


	11. The Ritz

**Author's Note: Finally Chapter Ten has been revised, rewritten (countless times I assure you), and is ready to be posted! I hope it is up to everyone's expectations. Thank you to all my readers and reviewers! I love you guys! Just one more small thing, there is some implied adult content at the end of the story. Just wanted to let you readers know incase you get offended by such innuendos. Enjoy! **

**Chapter Ten: At The Ritz **

Starling woke up at eleven-thirty that morning. She was pretty confident they'd catch Talivaldis this time. She took a shower and heard room service come in. When she got out, she saw her bed made and her meager breakfast. She was beginning to enjoy the supposedly "gourmet" hot chocolate when an agent from Scotland Yard called her.

"We lost him. We sent several officers into the area you specified and one of them found the hotel he was staying in on Black Pond Road. No trace of the Crusader though. All his stuff is gone."

She thanked the officer for letting her know and hung up. Looking into the empty plastic mug, she could feel anger surface into her mind. With all her might, she threw the cup at the wall. She heard it crack and dent it. She didn't care. She was so angry that Talivaldis escaped again. This was the second time she saw him walk away when she was so close to catching him. She needed to vent. She pulled on a black leather jacket and walked right out of her room. She had her badge in her pocket and one of her .45s strapped to her ankle. Her cell phone was clipped to her waist. Instead of taking the tube, she walked around London. She thought of where the Crusader was going next. Where was he this very moment? Somewhere up north like in Scotland or did he take the chunnel to France? How was he traveling? For all she knew, he could be in Cambodia! Pearsall called her around three to tell her to get back to the bureau. There was nothing much for her to do now. She was in the much nicer, classier side of London now. She saw men in business suits pass her by while glancing back. Some of the women wore suits and others in formal dresses. On the corner of the street she was on, she saw the Ritz. She knew _he_ was staying there; his taste for fine living wouldn't let him pick elsewhere. The doorman tried to stop her from coming in.

"Excuse me, madame, but we do have a dress code!"

She flashed her badge and the temporary one Scotland Yard had given her, and the man shut up and let her in. There was a short, rather haughty woman at the front desk. She took in Clarice's clothes and grimaced. Again Clarice flashed her badges to get a little respect from these people.

"How may I be of assistance, officer?" she asked in a very high pitched voice.

"I need to know if a Dr. Charles is staying here in the hotel."

"Dr. Charles? Of course. I hope he's not in any kind of trouble..."

"No ma'am. I just need to speak with him."

"Sixth floor. Room 624."

"Thank you."

She took the elevator to the sixth floor. She found room 624 fairly quickly and knocked. Dr. Lecter opened the door. Starling could see he was shocked for a moment but he masked it well.

"_Special Agent Starling_, what a surprise."

"I'm sorry, _Dr. Charles_. I should have called but you left me with no means to reach you."

"I'd forgotten about that. Please forgive me. Why don't you come in."

"Thank you."

She stepped into the room. It didn't surprise her that he was staying in probably one of the best suites in the hotel. She could see that the suite had three other rooms in it including its own kitchen.

"Please sit down, Clarice. Would you like anything to drink? Some water or wine perhaps?"

"Water only, Hannibal. Thank you."

After handing her a glass of water, Dr. Lecter settled himself down on a brown leather winged back chair. Clarice sat down in front of him on the matching sofa. He observed that she was angry about something and looked like she wanted to pull out that .45 she had hidden on her ankle and shoot something. He hoped she wouldn't. Her fingers twitched as if they longed to be around someone's neck. Her left had gripped the glass cup so hard he thought it might shatter if she applied anymore pressure.

"Now tell me, Clarice. What's bothering you?"

She downed the water not realizing how thirsty she was. For a moment she looked down at the glass and set in safely on the ottoman. She didn't want to break it.

"Talivaldis left. I have no clue where he is now."

Her hands formed fists and unclenched again. Dr. Lecter nodded. He had anticipated this. They stayed silent for a couple of minutes.

"What do you think, Doctor?" she asked quietly.

During those silent moments, the anger slowly dripped out of her body only to be replaced by the feeling of utter hopelessness. She hated the feeling. She felt she hadn't down her job right, hadn't done the right thing, and hadn't made the right choices. She looked into Dr. Lecter's maroon eyes. He studied her face for a moment and then took a deep breath.

"He knows your after him. I take it he is traveling back to familiar territory. His last name is Latvian but he can also be going to Lithuania or Russia."

"How can you be sure? He could've went to Asia or South America. He could be anywhere."

"Where would you go, Special Agent Starling, if you knew you wouldn't be followed right away?"

"I see your point," she admitted. "If he still has friends and/or family they won't know what he's done. They'd welcome him back."

Dr. Lecter nodded.

"When do you go back to the bureau?" he asked.

"I'm supposed to be on a flight tomorrow. I need to call Pearsall though and let him where we think the Crusader is. He has to let me track the bastard down."

Dr. Lecter could see the fire in her eyes ignite once again. She had that glint of determination and renewed hope. Her face and skin radiated it. She looked down at her hands and her face sobered a little.

"Will you follow me there?"

"Only if you want me to."

"I do."

He nodded. She made eye contact again. A blush traveled to her face, but she did not turn away.

"Will you care to join me to dinner?" he asked.

"Yes. But if you'll excuse me for a moment, Hannibal. I need to make a phone call."

Clarice got up and walked into the foyer. She called Pearsall and told him her theories.

"I need to see if I could book you a flight. I'll get back to you tomorrow, Starling."

He hung up. She clipped her phone back onto her belt and walked into the living room. Dr. Lecter wasn't there. Clarice sat back down and waited. She was there by herself for five minutes. Someone knocked on the door. Dr. Lecter appeared dressed in a black suit with white tie. He opened the door, thanked someone for something, and closed it. Another minute went by before he came back.

"I had one of the staff bring something more appropriate for you to wear. It's in the bathroom. I hope you like it."

"Your too much, Hannibal. Thank you."

"My pleasure."

Clarice walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. A midnight blue dress hung on it. Matching high heels were next to the sink. The dress, of course, fit her perfectly. It was a halter dress that fell down to her ankles. There was a slit on the left side that ran up to her knee. She looked at herself in the mirror and vaguely recognized herself. '_You can't do this, Starling_.' She ignored the voice. Her hair was down already and she had applied very neutral makeup in the morning. There was nothing else to do with her appearance. She slipped on the high heels, looked at the woman now staring back at her in the mirror, and then walked back to the living room.

"I hope you don't mind if I left my other clothes folded in there."

Dr. Lecter walked into the foyer. His breath caught in his throat. Both were able to hear him take his next breath.

"Of course not," he said softly.

The hotel restaurant was beautiful and looked very expensive. Clarice grew self-conscious as several of the men and women there turned in their seats to stare at her. She held her head a little higher. The waiter led them to a table and went to get a bottle of wine Dr. Lecter ordered. The middle of the room had been cleared of tables and some couples danced to the music being played by a small troupe.

"So, Hannibal, you haven't told me how you spent this last year away from Chesapeake."

They held the conversation until the waiter arrived with the wine and their food. While they ate, Dr. Lecter told her of the sites and scenes he saw while traveling. He spent a great deal of time in Eastern Europe and South America. Clarice spoke about the bureau and her frustration with it and the current administration. The restaurant, as the evening grew long, became more crowded. There were no more tables to be seated at and the make-shift dance floor had a myriad amount of people on it. Dr. Lecter stood up and offered his hand to her.

"Will you do me the honor of a dance?"

She nodded and took his hand. His skin was soft against hers. He held her hand as if it were made of fragile china. The music changed to a very soft and slow song. His right hand was placed at her waist and his left was still holding her right. She gently placed her left hand onto his shoulder. In high heels, she and Dr. Lecter were the same height. They swayed in time to the music. Clarice stepped closer to him and rested her cheek against his. '_The man holding you is a convicted murderer,'_ the voice in her mind grated at her, '_and a cannibal to top it off!_' She closed her eyes and willed the voice to go away. It was funny how when it came to Dr. Lecter, her conscience sounded like Jack Crawford. After they were done, Dr. Lecter paid for the bill and they set off towards his room.

Clarice didn't go back to the Novotel.


	12. Almost Home

**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who've been reviewing! I really appreciate it. Now on to the next chapter! **

**Chapter Eleven: Almost Home**

Michael got off the plane and stretched. It felt good to be in Austria again. It was easier for him to cross the border here and not be noticed. No one had recognized him so far. The air smelled fresher to him here. The sky was a lovely light gray, totally covered in clouds. The air was cool and crisp. He made it through the Austrian costumes alright and went in search of a hotel to stay in. He only hoped it would be better then the one in London.

Clarice woke up to the sound of Hannibal's voice. She turned over in bed to see him with a cell phone in his hand. She assumed he was speaking German or some other harsh dialect to the person on the other end. She just laid there and watched him. He said one more word and closed his phone. He reached over and put it on the dresser next to the bed and then turned back to Clarice. He had never seen a more splendid vision. The sheets and comforter of the bed were tucked under her arms, only exposing her arms and shoulders. Her hair was fanned out like a golden halo around her head. She looked back at him, her eyes shining in the morning sunlight.

"Good morning."

Clarice turned on her side to get a better view of him. Dr. Lecter mirrored her movements.

"Who were you talking to?" she asked.

"A friend who owes me a favor," he replied. "I need a way to get back into Europe and so I called him because he has his own private plane."

"Oh."

She looked pensive for a moment. Her beauty mark was unusually dark in this light. Dr. Lecter brought his hand to her cheek and traced the outline of it with his finger.

"What are you thinking about, Clarice?"

"I thinking about the Crusader," she answered vaguely.

She had a nagging feeling like she had forgotten something. She couldn't place her mind on it. The Crusader was traveling fast, she knew that. How was he getting around? His physical description had been sent to every major airport in the world. _'Simplicity...'_ He wasn't using the major airlines. He was probably going by some of the lesser known ones or on private commuters like the one Dr. Lecter was going to use. How was he going to get to Latvia or wherever he was going?

"What is the easiest way to get into a country like Lithuania or Latvia without flying into it?" she asked him.

He thought for a moment.

"I would probably take a small flight to somewhere south of those countries and make my way into one of them by crossing the border with a rental car. The border patrols do not fuss over security as much as the officers in costumes. A flight to Warsaw would be a good one to take. If he was being overly careful, he might go as far south as Vienna and then travel north again."

Clarice nodded. Her cell phone rang and began to vibrate on the dresser next to her. 'Oh shit,' she thought. She answered the phone.

"Starling."

"Where the hell are you, Starling! I've been trying to reach you at the hotel and none of the staff could answer whether you came in last night or not! The maid who fixes up your room said you hadn't slept there last night. I've even called your cell twice but no answer! I've been worried sick about you! That's all I need is for you to go missing and have it leaked out into the press! What would the director say or think, huh?"

Clarice rolled her eyes.

"You still haven't answered my questions, Starling!" he said loudly.

She could hear his breath on the phone. She didn't know what to really say but she just went on instinct.

"I didn't go back to the hotel last night, _sir._ I was too pissed off at the Crusader. I got rip-roarin' drunk and didn't know what I was doing so now I'm at a hotel with a person I don't know or don't recall ever meeting. As to what the director would say or think, I don't really give a flying fuck what he says to me or what he thinks. I wasn't officially on duty last night so I decided to spend the time my own way. I just want to catch that asshole and get on with my life. I'm handing in my resignation after this case. I'm tired of all the bullshit and bureaucracy."

The sarcasm and resentment of years wasted dripped into every word she said. There was a very pregnant pause after her outburst.

"If that's how you feel, Starling... I'll pull you right off this case right now if you tell me to."

"No. I want to catch this guy."

"Fine. You will adhere to the policies we've always implemented though, Starling. All we need is the press and paparazzi to see and photograph you in such a state. Get back to your hotel room fast. I've managed to get you a flight to Munich which leaves in two hours. I'm also sending reinforcements for the sake of the bureau. Agent Deming is in route already and should meet you up there. No fucking up this time, Starling. We need to get this man quickly. Washington has already notified us of the consequences if we're not able to."

"Right, sir. I will catch him."

"I hope so for your sake."

She hung up the phone. She laid back on the pillow. Her face showed her frustration.

"_I got rip-roarin' drunk and have slept with a man I do not know or ever recall meeting,_" she heard Dr. Lecter say in a perfect West Virginian drawl. She looked at him with narrowed eyes. His showed his amusement.

"What was I supposed to say? '_Hello, Agent Pearsall. I'm sorry I was not at the hotel. I spent the night at the Ritz with Dr. Hannibal Lecter having a wonderful time and am currently lying next to him.'" _

Both laughed at that and got up and dressed.

Clarice went to the Novotel and quickly packed all her belongings. The maid had already come in and given her the airline ticket. One of the agents from Scotland Yard picked her up and escorted her to the airport. She thanked him and went in search of her terminal. She found it after walking around for twenty minutes. They were already boarding people. She put her bags next to her and gave the flight attendant her ticket. They let her on and she slept all the way to Munich. She had not, after all, gotten much sleep the night before.

"Special Agent Starling, I presume?"

Clarice had gotten off the plane and heard her a voice speak to her. The man was fairly short; he only looked to be about 5'6. He had sandy blond hair with green eyes. He was very stocky and looked strong. He held out his badge and I.D.

"Nice to meet you, Agent Deming."

She shook his hand, feeling callouses and noting a few scars. He showed her to a black, unmarked car and helped her with her luggage.

"We're going to the hotel so you could brief me and two other officers on the Crusader. We were able to get one of the conference rooms so we could have more space. We also brought copies of the case file you have managed to transcribe so you wouldn't have to explain everything."

She nodded, only half listening to him. She had a bad feeling about him. She wasn't comfortable at all that their would be three agents around all the time now.


	13. Emerald Eyes

**Author's Note: Manda Panda2, Don't worry about the typo! I had reread the review a couple of times, but then kind of shrugged it off. We all make mistakes! I'm glad you liked the GD's humor! I've always thought he was really funny, also. I love that accent he does, too...Well thanks to everyone who has been reading and everyone who has taken the time to review also! It's very much appreciated. The story is almost completed. I think I will probably only have three more chapters. This is my first Hannibal fic so I'm going to be sad posting the last chapter! Hope you readers enjoy this one!**

**Chapter Twelve: Emerald Eyes**

Michael was making good time. He had landed in Vienna and spent only two days enjoying the sites. He loved the angelic music that they played. He knew the FBI had no clue where he was going. His plan was to travel to Munich, cross the Danube into Stuttgart, and take a train to Berlin. After another day or two there, he would cross into Poland and not stop until he made it to Rucava, his hometown. It was located in Latvia on the border of Lithuania and adjacent to the Baltic Sea. He longed to see it again. He hadn't been there in ten years...

Starling was hot and felt suffocated in the small conference room. She studied all the maps of this part of Europe but she couldn't pinpoint the exact route theCrusader was going to take. She hoped he had flown as far south as Vienna. If he flew to Warsaw, then they were out of luck and should be packing their bags. If he flew to Vienna though... He would have to cross Germany's borders in order to by pass the Czech Republic. It was too dangerous for him there. She was certain he would not try to cross their borders. It was suicide. The main train routes went through Munich and then all the way back north to Berlin. A cup of ice water appeared in front of her. Agent Lugo stood next to her.

"You'll work yourself to death," she said as she sat down next to Clarice.

Sophia Lugo was a only two years younger than her but had a certain quality about her that made her seem older to Starling. She was much taller than her, being a height of 57. She was a thin woman who wore her long thick black hair in a bun. She was one tough lady though when it came down to getting her hands dirty. Starling always admired her for that.

"Thank you," said Clarice while taking a sip gingerly.

"You might want to be careful. I've noticed you haven't slept since we got here."

"I'll be fine once all of this is over."

"Is it true that your leaving the bureau?"

"Yes." _With no hesitation and no looking back._

"I hate to see a good woman like you go, Starling. Jesus knows we need good honest people in there."

Lugo went back to her desk that she had placed in the corner. Starling felt dejected that she would never she these people again. She would never see Ardelia again. She wouldn't be able to visit Jack Crawford's grave again. She couldn't. Agent Deming walked in at that moment, a slight sneer on his face. _Now there's one person I'm happy to never see again._ Another Agent walked in after him. Matthew Ratcliffe was a tall lanky man with no personality. How he ever made it through the academy, Starling never knew.

"Do you have anything new, Starling?" asked Deming in a condescending tone.

She felt a great urge to be petulant and role her eyes, but she controlled herself. She flexed her fist once and then answered him.

"No as I've already told you, Deming. Quit asking. Go and do your own work."

She spoke in clipped sentences to reign in her anger. For the couple of days that she got to know him, she discerned that she hated him only a little less than Krendler. He thought he was hot shit. He never knew when to keep his mouth closed and get back to work.

"You can't order me around, Starling. We're on the same playing field here. You have no one to protect you or," he lowered his voice, "_kill off your enemies._"

She stared straight into his hateful brown eyes, daring him to say another word. Her eyes flashed dangerously.

"How dare you."

"Not everyone has forgotten your little stint with the cannibal," he said clearly wanting to enrage her. He smirked.

"To find the cannibal was my job. I did it. It's over and done with." She hated talking about Dr. Lecter like this but it was the only way people would not become suspicious.

"Yeah, you did your job and look where it got you. I was suprised the bureau kept such a liability."

"You asshole. You have no clue what your talking about."

"I don't? I read the case file_ you_ wrote. Not a lot happened between the two of you. Odd. I always thought of him as a lecherous old monster hiding behind the gentleman."

Agent Deming fell to the ground clutching his face. Starling had gotten up so fast and punched him in the eye. Lugo and Ratcliffe were restraining her. She was breathing hard. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her body.

"Starling! Get a hold of yourself!" Lugo said.

"I always knew you were a crazy bitch!" Deming said from the floor.

Starling pulled herself from Lugo's and Ratcliffe's grasp and walked out of the room. She didn't trust herself to stay in there with him. She walked out of the building and onto the street. She didn't know where she was going but she just knew she couldn't stay here. She walked down it. She felt ashamed that she had let Deming get to her. He was an utter bastard and had goaded her. The air was cool, but smelt of cigarettes. She accidently bumped into someone.

"Sorry," she muttered and looked up.

Her eyes widened as they met those icy emerald green ones whose owner she was going to catch.


	14. The Warehouse

**Author's Note: Was the last chapter considered a cliff? Hmm... If you thought that was bad wait till you read this one! That's all that I am saying for now. Enjoy! **

**Chapter Thirteen: The Warehouse**

Clarice looked startled for a second before her brain switched to agent mode. Michael Talivaldis had stood there, also, but now started to turn and run.

"Stop! F.B.I.! Your under arrest!"

Michael ran as fast as his legs carried him, dodging all the other pedestrians in his way. Starling was very close behind him. She couldn't pull out her gun in fear of hitting an innocent bystander. Sweat started to grace her forehead. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. He turned down an alley way trying to lose her. She followed only there meters behind. She saw him glance to the left and burst through a door. She stopped only for a second, pulling out her gun. She glanced inside the dark doorway and then went in. The air smelt strongly of oil and grease. It almost choked her. She saw the Crusader at the end of the hallway. He disappeared into another door. She ran quickly, and with her gun straight out in front of her, opened it one handed. There were textile machines lined around the walls of the huge warehouse. Several conveyer belts were located in the middle of the room. She saw Talivaldis in the middle of them, staring straight at her.

"I can't go with you," he said.

His handsome face was flushed and sweat was shining on it. His eyes looked eerily blank of emotion. He looked quite deranged among the unusual setting.

"You have to. Now turn around and get your hands up where I can see them."

He then grinned.

"No."

"Don't make me shoot you, Talivaldis. Don't try me 'cause I will."

He laughed.

"You'll only be condemning yourself. I know your not a afraid to kill someone. You're a natural born killer. And now you're a whore."

He spoke with such confidence that it unnerved her. She tried not to react to his words.

"You need help, Michael. Please come with me and I'll see to it that your taken care of."

"Taken care of? More like thrown in jail for my religious convictions. Kill me and you'll just make me a martyr. Those people deserved to die. The Lord commanded it. It says in Revelations, chapter—."

"I don't care what it says," she interrupted him. "No one deserves to die the way they did. You've become a murderer, something worse than those people."

He began to scowl at her. His face darkened considerably.

"What are you going to do now, you whore?"

"I should slit your throat for that, boy."

The voice had come out of nowhere. Both were shocked to hear it. Clarice because she knew who it was and Michael because he didn't. He looked frantically around himself, trying to locate the owner.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" he said with his voice shaking slightly.

Laughter rang out and echoed in the large space. Starling felt a chill run down her spine. It was like listening to a demon laugh.

"How are you going to get out of this one, Crusader?"

Both turned and saw Dr. Hannibal Lecter leaning against one of the textile machines. He was wearing a pure black suit, matching silk tie, with a white fedora and black ribbon. Clarice had not even saw nor heard him walk out. He only leered at Talivaldis, not once glancing in her direction. Talivadis looked between the two of them as if considering his options. He didn't say anything.

"Come now. I just asked a simple question. It's not hard to answer..."

"Who are you?" Michael managed to croak out.

Dr. Lecter smiled thinly.

"It doesn't matter in this situation. Your cornered. Give up yourself to Special Agent Starling here and all will be well."

With his hands behind his back, Dr. Lecter walked slowly up to Talivaldis. Michael stood as straight as a rod and did not move.

"I can't go with her."

When he was directly in front of Talivaldis, Dr. Lecter looked him in the eye. A spasm of horror spread through Talivaldis. His face contorted and he stepped away from Dr. Lecter.

"_Velnias,_" whispered Michael.

Dr. Lecter laughed again.

"Do you really think so?"

Michael nodded numbly. Those eyes will forever be burned into his memory. No one had eyes like that, except Satan. In the dim light they shone like dark rubies waiting to be polished. Talivaldis imagined hundreds of horrible ways that this _man_ could kill him. He couldn't die, he reminded himself. The Lord was on his side! He had done his work dutifully. He deserved salvation. This man or devil was not going to take it away from him. Like any cornered animal, he attacked.

Talivaldis was strong. Dr. Lecter was pushed back against a conveyor belt and felt the man grap his neck. He heard Clarice yell something but couldn't make out what she said. With his other hand the Crusader had tried to restrain his hands. Michael only managed to grasp his right arm. Dr. Lecter flicked his left wrist and the harpy concealed in his sleeve fell into his hand. His air supply was low but he was going to get rid of this nuisance before any real damage could be done. Before he got the chance to do anything, he heard the click of the safety from Clarice's .45 and felt Talivaldis's grip lessen.

"Let go of him," said Starling, her voice calm with a hint of a warning.

Talivaldis reluctantly let go of the doctor and stepped a foot away from him. Dr. Lecter stood up straight again and fixed his bunched up suit.

"Walk towards the door and if you so much as turn around, I'll kill you."

"Kill me already. I'm ready to die."

"I agree with him," said Dr. Lecter.

"No. Come on, I'm taking you back."

She glanced at Lecter for a second seeing him with raised eyebrows. She moved her gaze back to Talivaldis. He hadn't moved. She could feel the animosity coming from him. He lunged at her and but he never made it. Blood splattered at her feet as she saw wide eyed Michael's throat slashed. A gurgling noise emitted from the wound and he crumpled to the floor. His head came to rest right next to her feet. Blood soaked into his white blond hair staining it. She didn't realize she had been staring until she felt Dr. Lecter's arm pull her away towards the door.

"You shouldn't be here. Come."

She still couldn't pull her eyes away from the corpse's. They looked eerily the same, blank and unresponsive. They were two meters from the door when it flew open with such force, it bounced off the wall. Agent Deming along with Lugo and Ratcliffe entered the room.

Clarice cried out as she felt her arm twisted behind her. She then felt the cold unmistakable feel of metal against her throat. Her .45 dropped to the floor. The warehouse was dead quite as the three agents stared astonished at the scene before them. Dr. Hannibal Lecter held his harpy against Special Agent Clarice Starling's throat, his other arm twisting her right one.


	15. Salvation

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone for the reviews, words of encouragement, and for just reading the story. This is the second to the last chapter. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Fourteen: Salvation**

The warehouse was as silent as the grave. If one were to strain their ears though, they would only hear the breathing of the people inside. The three agents stood there with no expressions on their faces. In each of their eyes however was a different emotion. They had their guns positioned at the man and woman in front of them. The woman breathed in harshly, not wanting to move. The man, however, was cool and calm. He seemed not to need to blink. It was one of the agents who spoke first.

"Put down the weapon, Dr. Lecter. No one needs to get hurt," said Lugo.

"Your right that no one needs to get hurt, but I will not put down my weapon. If you were to– how does the expression go– let me walk out through the back door, I'll let Special Agent Starling go, unharmed."

"We can't let you do that," said Agent Ratcliffe.

Starling was so confused. Her mind raced with millions of thoughts yet she couldn't concentrate on them. She tried not to move as her arm was now on fire, the pain becoming unbearable. Her elbow was not made to bend at that angle for a long period of time. Some of hair came loose and hung on the side of her face. She looked at the Agents in front of her and saw Deming move to the side a little. She saw that his gun was pointed a little above her shoulder. She heard a single gunshot.

She felt her arm being let go and heard a deadened thump behind her. She breathed in harshly, not daring to look behind her. She moved her now free arm and looked up at the other agents. Lugo and Ratcliffe were stunned. Deming was smiling arrogantly. She heard a hiss of breath behind her. She slowly turned her head to see Dr. Lecter lying on his back, blood seeping from a wound on his shoulder. The bullet looked as if it had went clean through. His eyes met hers. Not even thinking of her actions, she bent down and ordered him to sit up slowly. She saw the disconcerted look in his eyes but he did as he was told.

"What are you doing, Starling?" she heard Deming's voice say.

She began to tug off the coat he wore and shred it into long pieces. She didn't answer Deming. Dr. Lecter stared at her as if seeing her in a new light.

"Step away from him, Starling." This time she couldn't tell who spoke.

Ever so slowly she moved her right hand to her ankle. She motioned with her eyes to get Dr. Lecter to look at the direction she was looking at. His expression never changed. She stood up slowly, pulling the .45 out of her ankle holster. She turned around. Only three gun reports sounded. All three agents dropped to the floor. She ran to them and kicked their guns into the middle of the room. When she got to Deming, he tried to lift his gun with his wounded arm. She shot his wrist off. An agonized scream issued out. Ratcliffe and Lugo both cradled their arms and moved out of her way. Lugo was amazed at what she saw. Later when she will write her report on the incident, she will write that Special Agent Starling had lost her mind. Clarice walked back to Dr. Lecter.

"Can you walk?"

"Yes."

She helped him up and put an arm around his waist to steady him. All three agents watched as she helped Dr. Lecter out of the building. Neither moved for a full five minutes. Once outside, Clarice hailed a taxi.

"Your going to have to direct him, Hannibal. My german is not up to scratch."

"The Kempinski Hotel Vier Jahrezeiten."

While on the way to his hotel, she bound the wound tighter. He only winced once.

"We have to find you a doctor, fast." she whispered to him.

He only nodded in reply.

"I can't go in like this," he said when they were parked out side the hotel. She nodded. He reached into his pants pocket and gave her his key.

"Remember to check all the draws. My suitcase is in the closet. Don't worry about my clothes. Just grab all the paper documents."

His face looked unusually pale. She nodded and sprinted into the building. She took no notice of the people staring at her nor of the beautiful surroundings. She found his room rather quickly, gathering everything he owned in less than five minutes. She found him outside of the hotel with a pair of car keys in his hand.

"I'm parked just over here. Your going to have to drive."

She accepted the keys and looked at the car he indicated. It was a Mercedes Maybach. She put his luggage in the trunk and got into the drivers seat. After driving for twenty minutes outside of Munich, the Doctor directed her to a hidden estate about fifteen minutes off the main road. Clarice watched him carefully. He was starting to look as pale as the first time she met him. She parked in front of the house and helped the doctor out of the car. A small fragile looking old woman answered the door. Dr. Lecter spoke to her for a moment. Her eyes widened and she walked away as quickly as she could. Dr. Lecter made his way into the foyer with Clarice still supporting him. An older gentleman then rushed into the room.

"Aber was den!" he said.

Clarice looked to the doctor for an answer.

"He wants you to follow him."

The gentleman lead them into a small room. He stripped off the bed sheets and pointed to it. Dr. Lecter walked to it and laid down. Starling didn't know what to do so she stood by the door.

"Vhat have you been doing, Herr Doktor, to warrant such a vound?" the man spoke in very broken English.

"The usual I'm afraid, my friend," replied Dr. Lecter.

The gentleman walked around the room and pulled out various medical instruments. Dr. Lecter sat up once more and tried to pull off the make-shift bandages and his blood soaked shirt. Clarice rushed to his side and began to help.

"Thank you," he said while meeting her eyes.

She gave him a small smile.

"I've been terribly rude, Clarice. Let me introduce you to Herr Doktor Alois Schrader. Schrader, this is Clarice Starling."

Schrader looked up for a second and nodded to her.

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Starling. If you vill excuse me, I need to start vorking on de doktor."

"Of course," she said.

"You'll be valking around ehe man sich's versieht."

It amused her the way that Schrader switched from English to German in mid sentence. He bent over Dr. Lecter and began to examine the wound. He poured a bottle of antiseptics on it. Dr. Lecter hissed through his teeth.

"Damn it, man. You could have a least warned me."

Schrader chuckled.

"Your very lucky, Hannibal. The bullet did no extensive damage. You haf lost a lot of blood but vith bed rest and plenty of liquids you should be up in no time. The bullet did not exit either. I vill just stitch you up."

He threaded a needle. Dr. Lecter stared at the ceiling as Schrader closed the wound. Starling settled herself down in a chair by the corner. The past couple hours had seemed like a dream to her. It was surreal. She felt like she was out of her body. She tried not to pay attention to it.

"All done," said Schrader, "if you vill excuse me."

He left the room. Clarice looked at Dr. Lecter. There was a vertical row of about fifteen stitches running down his shoulder. If he was lucky he will only get a thin scar. She suddenly thought that it will mirror her own scar. His eyes were closed. She got up as quietly as she can so as not to disturb him and walked towards the bed. She sat down lightly.

"Clarice."

She caressed his cheek, seeing his eyes open again.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. I only hope my shoulder won't give me any trouble after this. How are you?"

Looking into those maroon eyes, she answered him.

"I don't know. It seems so cataleptic to me. They probably already have a warrant out for my arrest. I don't know how I feel about that."

"Like I've said before, Clarice. You lack perspective. Now you can do whatever you please. You do not have the bureau to boss you around and shun you. You'll revel in your new found freedom soon. It will be all that will matter to you..."

"That won't be true to me," she whispered.

He raised an eyebrow.

"How so?"

"You matter to me."

She leaned forward and their lips met. It was a gentle kiss until he wrapped his "good" arm around her and pulling her closer. Schrader chose that moment to walk back in.

"Hannibal, I vas vondering if—."

He stopped dead and left the room. Both Clarice and Dr. Lecter laughed until he silenced her again. Her face was flushed when she finally pulled away from him. She became very quiet and had a serious look in her eye. She opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her.

"I want to apologize for what I did at that warehouse. It was probably a very uncomfortable position I put you in."

"Would you have killed me?"

Her eyes searched his face for an answer. He laid there avoiding her eyes. It was silent for a couple of minutes.

"You just told me, Hannibal," started Clarice, "that all that matters to you is your freedom. Would you have killed me to gain it?"

"No," he said quietly. "If I had done that I would have shackled myself to your memory. You would haunt me the rest of my life like my sister does now..."

"Sister?"

His eyes met hers. He could see her going through her memories of the case file on him. He had thought Mischa would have been in it.

"Mischa. She died very young, too young. I did not kill my own sister," he said at her questioning look, "quiet the opposite. I tried to protect her, but a group of starving Nazis pulled her away from me. That was the last time I saw her."

"That's horrible," said Clarice quietly.

He nodded. Taking her hand in his. She smiled faintly. Schrader glanced into the room and then walked in when he was sure he was not interrupting anything.

"Frau Starling, I took the liberty of securing another pair of clothing for you. I'm sure you vould like to wash up and change?"

Starling looked down at her own clothes and noticed for the first time that she was covered in blood.

"Thank you, Dr. Schrader."

Dr. Lecter kissed her hand and watched her walk out of the room. The old maid was waiting for her and showed her upstairs. Dr. Schrader turned to Dr. Lecter.

"I have not see you in quite a while, my friend," said Schrader in his native tongue.

"I've been traveling and avoiding the authorities," smirked Dr. Lecter. "Surely you get the news down in this secluded place."

"I do. If I'm not mistaken that woman, Clarice, was the one who was supposed to be on your case. Do you trust her? She use to work for that infernal institute."

"With my life."

"Hmm... I'm not going to ask you what happened because I will probably find out tomorrow," said Schrader as he rose from his seat.

"Rest, my friend. Your going to need it. We'll talk in the morning."


	16. The End

**Author's Note: Okay this is going to be a long one, my dear readers, so please bear with me. Firstly I'd like to thank everyone who has read this fic, especially Dr. Katy, Lectermate, Broken Silence, Italvision, Allison Velikaya, Lady Katherine, Hanniballover1181, Panther Angel, Morta, MandaPanda2, Mrs. Delarge, CM, xmusecliox, Starling-Scully, and, last but certainly not least, Kristin1228. I hope I've got everyone who reviewed! If not, then my humblest apologizes! You guys always made my day with your reviews. Thanks so much for all your support and great comments! I hope you guys will read my other stuff when I get down to posting it! Please note that the names are from both and the Studiolo. Tell me how you guys like this one! **

**Chapter Fifteen: The End**

Dr. Schrader did, indeed, find out what happened the next day. All the local news channels were reporting that the infamous Dr. Hannibal Lecter had kidnaped Special Agent Starling. The F.B.I. released this statement: "We are trying our best to find both Lecter and Special Agent Starling. We cannot comment on anything else at this moment, thank you." The F.B.I. did not disclose how three of their agents were shoot, one very severely. Nor did they ever say that Starling had been kidnaped. That was only what the press was led to believe and had been reporting. Starling knew they wouldn't say that they had a rogue agent. It would be embarrassing. Clarice got to know Dr. Schrader better that day. Dr. Lecter was still resting in the other guest room. She found out that Dr. Schrader had lived in the United States and had practiced medicine as an emergency room doctor in the same hospital in Maryland as Dr. Lecter. That was how they first met. He knew about Dr. Lecter's murderous past but he did not care about it. "I do not care if he killed those people as long as he doesn't kill me. They vere probably avful people anyvay." She had told them that most of them were, but there was no reason to kill them. He just waved the answer away.

The days were long and bright those couple of weeks that Dr. Lecter and Clarice stayed with Dr. Schrader. Dr. Schrader loved the company. Dr. Lecter healed fairly quickly but still had his stitches in. His shoulder only hurt when he awoke in the mornings from the cold. The F.B.I. were still in Munich but they hadn't the faintest clue where to look. Dr. Lecter, Clarice, and Schrader kept up with the news and saw how they were blundering around. They didn't have to worry at all. Winter was coming quickly along with the larger groups of tourist. Dr. Lecter thought it was the perfect opportunity to leave the country unnoticed.

"Clarice, have you decided to come with me?" he asked on a very cold morning.

The window was frosted but Starling could still see the snow falling. It was quiet beautiful to look at. She was lying next to him under a very heavy quilt. She was silent for a couple of moments.

"Yes," she said, "I've decided to go with you, but on one condition..."

"Name it."

"I want to be able to leave whenever I want. I'll be careful and I won't be caught. Also, I want to be the only one in your life. I'm extremely jealous and will beat the shit out of any woman who tries to take my place. You can expect the same fidelity from me."

"That was two conditions."

"Shut up."

_Five Years later..._

Former Special Agent Ardelia Mapp was found relaxing at a quiet café in Florence. The summer sun was shining brightly through the awning. The air was warm against her dark skin. Every summer for the last five years she had come to this place full of hope of glimpsing her lost friend. The F.B.I. had stopped looking for Special Agent Starling about three years ago. Most assumed she was dead. In her mind she could hear Jack Crawford's voice reminding her that, _"If you assume something, you make an ass out of u and me."_ And in this instance he was right. She did her own scouting on her free time but could find nothing. She knew that she had to be lucky to find Clarice. If Clarice didn't want to be found, she wouldn't. She was with Hannibal Lecter also. The man was like a chameleon. He was untraceable. Both seemed as if they had fallen off the face of the Earth. Ardelia sighed at another hopeless attempt. The only good these trips did for her was get her out of the States and way from the bureau. She had retired the year prior but they still nagged and bugged her. When Clarice was "kidnaped" she was brought in for questioning. She would have resigned right there and then but she knew she would need access to the bureau's files. She waved to a passing waiter and asked him for the bill.

Another young waiter walked up to her and asked for her name. She gave it to him and he left a folded note on the table. She looked at it, puzzlement spreading across her face. She picked it up and noticed that a certain perfume lingered on it. She opened it up and gasped. She knew that handwriting. There were only four words on it.

_Look across the street._

She scanned the area quickly and saw a man and woman standing next to a Mercedes Maybach. Her eyes widened and her heart beat out of control. The woman across the street waved and then got into the passenger side of the car. The man tipped his hat to her and flashed a smile in her direction. She shuddered. Ardelia sat there and watched them drive away numb. All the years of waiting and watching seemed useless to her now. A voice in her mind screamed at her to get her ass up and start running after them. But a softer and stronger voice told her to stay. All these years Ardelia had imagined Clarice shackled and miserable with her captor. The woman she saw across the street was radiant and blissful. She looked healthier than Ardelia remembered her. The man, no doubt Dr. Lecter, looked well, too. Though getting on in his years, he still gave the impression that he was taller than he was and stronger than he looked. She felt someone tap her shoulder to get her attention. It was the young waiter again. He held a box with another note taped to it. She opened the box first and was surprised to find Clarice's emerald ring. In the band it read _CS to AM_. She palmed the ring and opened the note.

_Ardelia,_

_As you saw, I'm fine and happier than I've ever been. _

_Don't look for me anymore. You have your own life to live. _

_Never forget that I love you. You're the sister I wish I had. _

_Clarice_

Ardelia folded the note and stuck it in her purse. For years after, she still visited Florence, but now for different reasons.

Clarice Starling, ex-Special Agent and now "kidnaped" person, did not recognize herself. She was a different woman from the one of five years back. She was carefree and happy. She had no stress what so ever. She traveled where she wanted to go, when she wanted to go. Sometimes Dr. Lecter accompanied her; sometimes she went alone. Both gave each other their privacy and respected the other's wishes. They owned a home in Buenos Aires and ingratiated themselves into Argentinian high society. The servants of the house were well disciplined and trustworthy. They knew their place. They were not allowed on the second piso after six o'clock to until noon the next day. Sometimes they find the dinner the Senor cooked still sitting on the dinning table. Sometimes they find the plates broken and smashed next to the table. Every once in a while a maid will find a smashed tea cup.

Clarice Starling and Dr. Hannibal Lecter live as best as they could. They needed each other though will never admit it. Neither stayed away long if they traveled separately. We could go farther into their personal life yet we risk discovery. Our couple could be seen at this moment gently swaying to music in the background.

We can only glimpse so much and live.

_**Fini**_

**Author's Note: And so ends my story. I hope all of you guys liked it. I'm starting to work on another one that popped into my head and hope you guys check that one out when I finally get it posted. I don't remember reading a story with the same plot line I will have... **

**Well thank you again. **


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